Broken Heartstrings Bleed The Blues
by Poxy Kirkman
Summary: When circumstance drags you down into the lowest pits of hell, when you want to give up on life, sometimes it's simply the thoughts of one day being able to fly out of there that keep you going. Will he be able to soar and be happy again, or will everything be too much for him, forcing him to find alternative ways to escape? Tooth x OC
1. Chapter 1

So this is going to be my new long fic :) Not as long as Summer (probably) but I'm working on it. It's very personal to me. It's going to address a lot of the thoughts and feelings I've had and though they're under different circumstances for my OC, they're still very real.

Some of the concepts in this fic will be triggering. It will go over the topics of depression, disability, suicide and mental health. Some people may possibly be upset by some of the ideas in here, maybe.

Really all I'm hoping to do is draw attention to some of these topics, show people how it can affect the individual suffering and how it affects those around them. How some are made to be strong to support those who aren't strong enough. How the mind is a powerful, wonderful thing, but it can also be a terrible thing to.

If you've read some of my fics before, then you'll know the way I work. You'll know how I've felt and often you'll get updates into my personal life too. If you're one of those people, welcome back :) I've missed you all.

If you're new, I hope you stick around. I've made some absolutely wonderful friends from here, and I hope to make more.

And as always, enjoy.

* * *

Have you ever just gone through a day knowing you're the black sheep? Maybe at school when you didn't know how to play hockey, or at Scouts because you were too scared to attempt the climbing wall... and really, what was the use?

He felt that every day of his life since he was five. He went from being a happy, smiling little boy to being stuck feeling like he was always alone. He went from kicking a football around with his dad to sitting on the couch, half heartedly cheering his team on on the television, and fuming deep down because he couldn't do that.

Why, you ask? Because one idiot of a man decided to get drunk, steal a car because it was obviously the cool and only right thing to do, and plough it into the front of his car at 80 miles per hour. It left him paralysed from the waist down. It left him with broken bones and scars that will never fade - both physical and emotional. He's lucky to still be alive, and he knew it. His mum didn't get that mercy, wasn't treated with the same saving grace. He was left to see her crushed against the dashboard, her life gone, in seconds.

He was left broken, and bloodied and bruised in the back of the car, screaming for her to wake up. But her eyes were open and she was looking at him. The only thing missing was the light that normally shone there, the twinkle of mischief that he'd inherited from her. She was dead, and if he'd understood the concept of death he wouldn't have screamed for her, because what would have been the point? You die, that's it. Dead, dirt, done. He'd never believed in heaven or hell in his life, not stupid concepts like that. Sometimes he thought he believed in God, but he'd never thought that think he'd sit you on a cloud and grant you eternity just so you could spend it watching your family suffer without you. Not if he loved you.

His dad became a raging alcoholic for a few years, and while at first his older brother had tried to care for him, he was only twenty at the time and losing both his parents either to death or the bottle was too much for him, he couldn't look after his little brother too, not with his new found special needs. So he was taken into foster homes sometimes. People that would put him at the head of the table to try and make him feel more important. smile and be happy all the freaking time. It was like there wasn't anything wrong in the entire world, like his problems were only really little, and he'd get over it in time. As if they knew. They'd talk loud and slow to him as if he were stupid, and it would leave him slamming his fists on the table screaming at them that he was lame, not fucking deaf. So as you might imagine, his childhood wasn't all as fantastic as someone else's might have been. Dad got over his alcoholism, cleaned himself up right nice so he could get his sons back. He became their dad again, and neither son would begrudge him those years of alcohol induced bliss. If they could have escaped as easily as that then they would have.

And there were so many things he wished he could have escaped from. They say kids are cruel, and he'd not argue with that fact. Some of them took to calling him 'wheels' - inspired by his wheelchair, obviously. 'Taxi' was popular. They'd jump on the back and pull his hair until he took them where they wanted to go. Some commented on how he looked like a crippled, broken toy. Like a puppet with his strings cut. Wrecked and tossed aside because nobody would want him, ever. 'Shitbag' - a clever one he always thought with a small sad smile, not many people noticed the catheter, but when they did they were quick to point and laugh. Out of all of them, he thought the one that hurt the most was 'mummy's boy', because they knew she was dead, and they had the audacity to laugh at him for losing her, not knowing he saw those dead eyes every night when he sleep, and they still had their own mother to go home to. Eyes sparkling and very much alive.

So when others felt a bit left out because they didn't know how to play hockey, he was left out because he physically couldn't play. When he enrolled at Scouts they tried convincing him to get into a harness and they'd help him up the wall. He could pull with his arms, build his upper body strength... he agreed, but people always try to over help you when you're disabled. As he heaved himself up, they pulled him a little higher so he went up without trying. Half way up he called for them to let him down. He never went to Scouts again after that.

However many times he rolled himself down to the canal and willed himself to just push himself in, he didn't know. He wanted to escape the bullies. Escape all the condescending looks he got from teachers and adults who saw him as this poor, helpless little boy... but he never managed to summon up the guts to do it. He always went home frustrated and angry, calling himself a coward. Promising himself he'd do it next time, but knowing he never would.

He took comfort in holidays, and various other nights of the year. Christmas was always a particular favourite, as he always wanted to see the sleigh. THE sleigh, not any other crappy plywood one with a shoddy paint job. He couldn't walk again, never would and he understood that. But why couldn't he fly? So as you can imagine, being pulled through the sky by any number of magical flying reindeer was an appealing prospect to him, it really was. But his favourite of all the fairytale people he was told about was the Tooth Fairy. She had her own wings. she could just go anywhere at any time, whenever she wanted! How cool was that?! He wished he was like her, able to take back a little control over his life.

She still is his favourite, to this day. He thinks about her most nights as he stared at the ceiling and sleep eluded him. And on the odd chance that he did fall asleep and manage to stay unconscious until REM, he would dream about having his own wings to fly, because it's always been his only comfort. He didn't really have anyone else. His brother loved him, but had moved abroad years ago. His father had lapsed into alcoholism again, while he'd lapsed into depression, and found it hard to go outside when all he got was strange looks. And nobody wants to be friends with a depressive agoraphobic who relies on stories of winged women and dreams of flying to keep him going day to day. It didn't help that scars marred half of his body either. It didn't help pull the ladies – not that he went to meet them anyway.

He's a twenty-two year old man who relies on fairy stories and dreams to keep him alive. Who still clung to to childish beliefs as a lifeline.

But the dreams were fading, his grasp slipping.

He knew he was messed up, nobody would want him.

He's just a broken toy.


	2. Chapter 2

So, I dunno who is reading this, but if you've read my other fic 'The End Of Summer' then I'm here to let you know that I'll be putting up some epilogue chapters for it. They'll be under the title; 'The End Of Summer; Epilogue Years'. Yeah, so that's that.

This is where we start learning more about my OC, his name for instance :)

I hope you enjoy.

* * *

A constant beeping roused the brunette from his sleep, and though groaning like some un-dead being and reluctant to move he lashed out at the bedside table where the alarm hopefully was (it may or may not have been thrown it across the room the morning before) and eventually he managed to slam his fist down on the button that would switch it off.

Breathing deeply, the silence seemed to bang at his eardrums and immediately he began to regret waking up at all. He much preferred sleeping and dreaming to being awake, where all the realities of how shit everything felt would crash down upon him as soon as consciousness reached him.

But today was important, today he had things to do, and if he didn't do them then people would be more disappointed in him than usual.

He began his morning to-do list in his head. _'I need to open my eyes'._

Forcing his eyelids open seemed like the toughest thing to do everyday, because it meant he actually had to start something. If he just rolled over end went to sleep it'd be okay. He'd not have to put up with the day and everything it brought that made him feel worse about being awake and alive. With a groan he opened his eyes, and bright light blinded him temporarily, causing him to squint and hiss slightly, and it seemed the only cure was to blink rapidly until he became accustomed to the light. He'd left the curtains open again, and the young man stared as golden white light streamed in through the window, the specks of dust floating through the air were illuminated and they caught his eye, glittering in their own little way.

With a sigh he wondered if this is as good as his day will get... dust mites in the morning.

But he'd managed to open his eyes. So it didn't really matter if his day was utter crap, he'd managed to start it, and that was the important thing. So now on his to-do list... '_I need to actually get up_'.

Pushing back on his arms, digging elbows into the soft mattress he sat himself upright, yawning widely and blinking the sleep away. He grabbed his legs, not feeling them really, but he took a moment to imagine how it would feel to have fingers wrap around them and pull. He could pretend that they still had some use, even though he could medically amputate the lower half of his body and still function as he did that very second. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed the brunette grabbed his wheelchair that wasn't too far away and slid into it, something he did every day. Pushing himself into the bathroom he peered into the mirror and grimaced.

The man had a mop of brown hair that stood on end every which way. Bed head, but he never combed it because if he did he looked like he was trying to imitate Artie from 'Glee', that show his ex made him watch when she went out with him, because she felt sorry for him being in a chair. Then she decided she couldn't dedicate herself to a guy who didn't really exist from the waist down and dumped him... via text. Not his brightest hour, but he'd seen it coming.

He had a bit of stubble on his face that he'd always grown on purpose, shaved a little so he didn't look homeless, but creating enough shadow that it would hide the series of scars on the left side of his face left there from the car crash when he was a kid. As he rubbed his chin thoughtfully he wondered if he should grow it out and try and shave it so he sported the Tony Stark look. Admittedly he had a bit of a crush on Robert Downey Jr... but who on earth doesn't?

He look into the big, brown eyes reflected back at him. He got those off his mum, because his dads were some variant of blue. He was also skinny enough, but the years of having the top half of his body make up for what the lower half wasn't doing means he'd managed to build up enough muscle to be able to pull himself around surely enough. Climb with ease. Hang off monkey bars like an idiot in the park. But then the scars littering his body didn't help, because all people see is a scarred, disabled man, and you don't want to be the wing-girl stuck with the cripple. It's just embarrassing for both of them. So he tended to avoid socialising.

Grabbing for his toothbrush and the toothpaste he set to cleaning his teeth, staring blankly at the reflection who stared blankly back. Smirking slightly to himself the brunette remarked in his head how the guy in the mirror was a miserable tosser.

Washing quickly he wheeled himself back into his room, dressing quickly in a pair of jeans and an old tee, emblazoned upon it the image of the stick figure guy tipped out of his stick wheelchair, and the word 'FAIL' in bright blue upon the white. He'd done that a fair few times himself, and he'd managed to turn his little mishap into a laugh. It was always good to inject a little humour back into life, and if he was the first to start laughing when he got tipped out of his chair, then the people around him wouldn't feel so bad about watching a grown man sprawled on the floor, completely unable to do anything to help himself. And it was easier to laugh than to show people how frustrated you are, or how you're ripping up inside.

When dressed he grabbed the suitcase laying by the bedroom door and placed it on his lap, wheeling down the hall and dropping it by the door, before heading into the kitchen and grabbing some toast, and the phone. The plane took off in four house, which meant he needed to phone a taxi now, because he'd need one with wheelchair access, and they're not the easiest to come by. He was sort of dreading the idea of going to the airport, but he needed to to catch his flight. He just didn't want to deal with the overly kind women at the reception desks or the people rolling their eyes as he made his way onto the plane first so he could be sorted out into the disabled seat, biting back bile and angry retorts as people muttered about 'special treatment'.

Maybe he thought too little of humanity? Maybe he'd just started to tar everybody with the same brush, and though he had to admit some people were fairly cool about him being disabled and scarred they were few and far between. He let every cruel word someone said stick in his brain like a pin, and now he found he had so many bad words and so much darkness in his head it was hard to find something nice in there that someone said to him. He knew how bad it felt to feel like nothing, so he never treated another person as nastily as he had been. He cheered on the underdog, because he knew all too well how it felt to be in his position.

After phoning about half a dozen taxi offices, he found one that had a car that would accommodate a wheelchair, and they would be there in ten minutes.

So he whipped around and shoved various things into the carry on bag; his ipod, mobile phone, a pillow, a spare shirt, and a couple of books. The Hunger Games, it had become really popular, and he'd watched the film and Jennifer Lawrence was fairly hot. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. He loved the book, but he'd have to man up and not cry (again) when he read Snape's memories. The guy was a legend, how could he not cry though? And finally in went Grimm's Fairy Tales.

Why not?

Everything was ready by the time the taxi arrived, and the bloke lowered the ramp for him to wheel himself on, and he put the bags in for the brunette, chatting away, but he paid little attention and replied with short one word answers – not the the driver noticed.

Relaxing back into the chair, trying to keep his eyes open. He'd been diagnosed in his teen years as having chronic insomnia, caused most likely by his mental health. It was bad enough that he had trouble finding a reason to wake up in the morning, but whatever crap was going on in his head was making it hard for him to sleep altogether, which just made the day after even harder... it was a nasty, vicious circle.

The drive was nice enough, the driver made small talk, asking what he was doing flying out to America before Christmas, and it set the young brunette to thinking. He was going out there to visit family, his brother who'd gone about fifteen years ago – leaving him with their alcoholic of a dad – while he went out there to set an insurance company up. There was a thirteen year age gap between them, and his brother had tried to look after him but the wide world was calling to him, and as a young entrepreneur he wanted to go out and set himself up. Looking after his little brother was too difficult a task for him. His brother loved him, and he knew that, but had he not gone to find his place and set up a business then he'd be stuck in Manchester too being just as depressed.

So every year around Christmas when his father went back to alcoholism to curb the pain and it became harder to even think about celebrating something you didn't want to celebrate when your father was in an alcohol induced stupor, he packed a bag and set off to America to visit his family out there, escaping for a little while.

As he got out of the cab via the back ramp and paid his fare, he ignored looks from other holiday makers and wheeled himself into the airport. This was probably the one time he was able to ignore the stared without feeling subconscious, because he was doing one thing that made him truly happy, and he didn't give a damn what other people thought.

He was flying today.

And, grinning, he wheeled himself up to the check in, dropped his bag on the scales and the check in girl took his passport and ticket from him, beaming as she did, checking the details.

"Shaun..." she looked between the passport and the ticket, nodding happily. "Shaun." She proceeded to ask him the basic safety information. Had he packed his own luggage, was there a chance anyone could have interfered with his luggage, did he have any dangerous objects in his luggage?

"Okay, here's your ticket Mr Bennett, your plane is departing from gate twenty three, you can wait in the departure lounge... and enjoy your time in Burgess!"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three!

Also, for anyone out there, I've started posting my fics on Tumblr. It'll be slow going at first and I'm starting with 'The End Of Summer', but yeah. I post other stuff too, and if you want to follow me I'm poxy-kirkman. So original. I'll be posting a bit of everything up, so yeah :) You'll end up seeing all my fics for ROTG up there :)

And anyone who IS reading this and had read TEOS, I'm going to be posting epilogue chapters. It's just hard work at the moment cos I have to get back into the mindset. Bad times.

Anyways, yeah, enjoy :)

* * *

"Are you all right sir?" the flight attendant asked Shaun, and he nodded mutely while she stared, as if waiting for an answer. Sighing, he looked up at her expectant face and her cheery grey eyes, and still he said nothing. The man knew staring at her would make her feel uncomfortable, and she bit her lip a little as she still waited, so he shook my head and looked back out the window.

"I'm fine thank you," he replied, looking down over the ocean as they were flying through the air. If he looked through the window just right it was as if he wasn't even on a plane, he could just look out over the never ending ocean, and though there was no wind whipping through his hair and he was unable hear the waves below or the constant rush of the breeze, he still felt free for a moment.

For one glorious moment, he wasn't confined to the chair and forced forever on the earth. He was soaring above it.

And then the reality of what he was thinking hit him, and he shook his head, brow furrowing at the stupidity of his thoughts and he could have cried, he felt so embarrassed at himself. Instead he buried his nose in his book, reading the same line over and over until his brain numbed and the anger subsided, and he felt calm enough to carry on, acting as if nothing had happened, and reminding himself that he was, and forever would be, confined to a wheelchair.

* * *

Shaun barely got through the arrivals gate before he heard two screams of delight, and braced himself for impact. In seconds Sophie had thrown herself at her uncle, and he hugged her close and smiled down at her, startled at how much she'd grown in the last year, and with the extra weight at the back of the wheelchair with the bag Shaun had slung around the handles, her projection toppled the two of them backwards, and the brunette lay sprawled on the floor with the small blond on his chest, looking shell shocked.

"Sophie!" came the horrified cry of Lindsey, Shaun's sister in law, while his brother John stood over them both, looking a bit shocked too. They all noticed people were watching, horrified to see a crippled man laying on the floor, seemingly attacked by the terror of a five year old with fairy wings on her back. The same ones he'd bought her for Christmas last year. How these little children terrorised the world, he thought with a chuckle. He didn't mind that his niece was lying on him, at least it showed she'd missed him in the last year, and he hugged her close as he faked a look of shock.

"I think she broke my legs!" he cried, and he noticed instantly how his elder brother John grinned at him, and his nephew Jamie burst out laughing. "I seriously can't move them... good thing I brought the wheelchair, eh?"

"God, I know. To think Lindsey would have had to carry you otherwise," John laughed, brushing his fingers through his dirty blond hair, and he prised the little girl off his younger brother, giving the younger man chance to push himself up so he was sitting, and Jamie up-righted the chair, and wheeled it behind his uncle.

"I would not have carried him," Lindsey laughed, nudging her glasses up, her green eyes twinkling.

"No, Jamie would have though, wouldn't you mate?" Shaun asked, twisting his arms back to grasp the chair and heave himself up, sliding back onto the seat and lifting his legs onto the footholds.

"I'd have tried," Jamie laughed, coming to the side of the chair, and Shaun ruffled his nephews hair, grinning at him. Sophie threw herself at her uncle again again, but the man was better prepared for the flurry of self cut blond hair and the child sat herself in his lap, hugging close and she rambled on about some bunny. He guess they'd gotten a pet or something, but when he saw Jamie hushing her, he assumed it was a surprise, and the family went out to the car. They didn't have a wheelchair ramp or anything, so Shaun heaved myself into the front passenger seat and made himself comfortable, while John got into the drivers seat and Lindsey and the kids got in the back.

"Uncle Shaun! Will you take us to the cinema? And can we go to the park? And will you help decorate the tree? And can we go sledding?" Jamie burst from his seat, and Shaun twisted his head to see him bouncing excitedly. He couldn't help but laugh at the boy, and he nodded quietly while Jamie and Sophie cheered, and their mum tried to calm them down.

"You're in a good mood," John noted as the family set of down the motorway, and Shaun looked about at the already snow covered countryside. Burgess was a town in the middle of nowhere, not small by any standards but there was a real sense of community, and everybody knew one another. It was a nice place to be in really, and more than once he'd considered moving out there to be with John and his family, but he always remembered his father and how he would be left alone and he didn't fare too well if there wasn't someone there to pry the bottle from his hand and replace that bottle with their own hand, and gently, gently, lead him back to reality. It was hard enough for Shaun to keep himself tethered, to not sit there feeling like nobody can see his hurt, trying not to feel like he was in the middle of a crowded room screaming at the top of his lungs but nobody could hear him. The young man had been to the doctors and knew he was depressed, but he didn't like talking about it, it was like accepting it and he hated feeling like there was something wrong with him... something chemical in his brain that wasn't balancing because he was putting so much stress on himself.

"I suppose," he muttered, watching the white fields pass by, wondering if he could ever be that... clean. Be that pure.

"And it's gone..." John muttered, and Shaun felt bitterness rise like bile in his throat and he looked at his older brother, and his eyes were narrowed and focused on the road but he seemed angry already. And what right did John have to be angry? Why could he get pissed off at the slightest thing, but not Shaun.

"What?" the younger of the brothers asked, glaring, and John shot him a look from the corner of his eye. "What is your problem?" Shaun asked, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling his mood pitch.

"You're like this all the time," John muttered, and Shaun noticed the chattering in the back of the car stopped, and he knew the kids knew they were going to argue. They always did. "You seem okay for the first ten minutes Shaun, but then you suddenly go all depressive."

"It might come as a shock to you, John, but when you're depressed it tends to happen," he pointed out, but he managed to keep his voice level, while John's was steadily rising. John had always had their dads short temper, while Shaun tended to manage to keep his cool in situations like this. He also practised more. When you felt like you were going to break every day, you made sure to know how to slide a mask on, like nothing was wrong.

"Oh, come off it!" the older brother cried, looking at his sibling exasperatedly. "You don't just go into a mood like this, you'd always be depressed."

"Maybe I am always in a mood, but I don't show it," Shaun muttered, closing his eyes and lifting a hand to rub his temple.

"Maybe you're an ass," John muttered, which sent Shaun into a fit of laughter, and soon both the brothers were laughing so hard it was hurting their stomachs.

"I love coming here," Shaun gasped when he managed to catch a breath, and John shot him a curious look. "You know it's the only time of year I laugh?" Johns face dropped from a smile to a small frown, and his eyes slowly fixed back on the road ahead of him.

"Really?" he asked after a moment, and the younger brunette nodded a little.

"Really," he confirmed.

"I think that's sad..." mumbled the older brother, and Shaun could see the concern in his eyes and the frown on his lips, and he nodded slightly, sighing to himself.

"Me too."


	4. Chapter 4

I genuinely don't know where I'm going with this fic, and I don't think I care. I'll write it and see how it grows and yeah, I suppose that'll work.

There are themes of depression through this fanfiction, so heads up...

And, I have a poll up on my bio regarding my fic 'The End Of Summer' and the prospect of my posting some epilogue chapters on the end of the existing fic (simply because if I post them elsewhere people who read and enjoyed the original fic might not be able to find it and/or read it)

Just so you know, Shaun finds it hard to trust people due to his own insecurity and he's a worrier.

So yeah. As ever, enjoy :)

* * *

They were kind enough to turn the sitting room into a bedroom for him, which meant he wouldn't have to try and drag himself upstairs for anything. And it was the heart of the house, which ensured he would not be forgotten in some lonely room, he'd be the focal point.

It was an intimidating thought, but it was also reassuring. It gave him the small inkling of hope that he was wanted. Shaun found that every year he felt himself perking up while here in Burgess with John and the family, but then as soon as he returned to England, back to dreary old Manchester, he found himself spiralling into depression again.

"Shaun, will you play outside with us?" Jamie cried, bounding into the room and leaping upon the couch, while Sophie chased after him, trying to jump the couch like he did but landing upon the chair arm, laying stomach down, giggling.

"Play! Play!" she cried, and the twenty two year old smiled, pushing himself forward in his chair and scooping the girl up, placing her down in his lap before wheeling himself to the door.

"Come on then, show me what's changed in the last year," he grinned at Jamie, letting the boy jump forward and push him through the house, vaguely listening to the two chatter on about their friends and what they've been up to. Sophie was the most interesting to listen to half the time, she was absolutely insane. He remembered last year at Christmas she'd found the scissors and had cut her own hair. It seemed to be something she did monthly now, as her hair was choppy in the most random placed, and her fringe was sloping dramatically to one side.

"I have a bunny!" she cried, and he noticed how Jamie stopped chatting on about his friend Pippa to hush his little sister, and he wondered what the big deal was.

"Do you now?" he asked, ignoring Jamie and grinning at Sophie, who nodded happily, but she glanced over his shoulder and looked at her brother, and her expression changed and she looked down at her lap, shrugging.

"No," she muttered, but there was a small smile on her face, and she started giggling. That was Sophie's tell tall when she was lying to him. He'd sussed her out long ago. Jamie tended to touch his face, and Shaun was always able to tell when the kids were lying, even when their own parents had no idea.

"Oh, alright..." he said quietly, and her big green eyes turned up to him, and he winked at her, and she smiled widely. "So how is everything going with Pippa, Jamie?"

"What do you mean?" the boy asked, his tone low and defensive, as if he hadn't realised he was going on about the girl he so obviously had a crush on, and now he'd been caught he didn't want to make things worse.

"Well, she's your best friend isn't she?" Shaun asked, looking at the ramp that had been installed for his sake, and wondering if when the front wheels hit the sharp angle at the bottom he would go tumbling out onto the floor. It wasn't so bad if he fell backwards, and stayed in the chair, because the catheter stayed attached. If he fell forward and out however, it would come unattached, and it was actually very painful to attach again, because he'd have to shift the pipe inserted into his body. It was never a pleasant experience, but it was one he had to deal with on occasion. Even shifting the bag when he had to get into cars in seats instead of staying in his char was bad enough, the pipe hurt like hell when it moved too much.

"No, Claude and Caleb are my best friends," Jamie noted, coming around to the front of his uncle and looking him in the eye, more or less dragging Sophie from Shaun's lap and sitting her on the deck, before going around to the back again and tipping the chair slightly, wheeling him down like a pro, and the older man smiled, thankful that not only did his nephew have the sense and body strength to do that (which surprised him, because the eleven year old was weedy as hell), but that he did not have to have his catheter reattached should he have fallen out.

"Then... what's going on with Pippa?" Shaun asked when he was on the paving stones safely, and he smiled coyly at the boy, brown eyes twinkling.

"Nothing, she's just a friend," the kid snapped, and Shaun realised he'd hit a nerve. It was obvious the boy liked Pippa, but if he wasn't ready to admit it then he wouldn't press. Then at that moment one of the panels in the fence slid to the side and two kids burst through, elbowing one another. They had dark skin, wiry black hair and wore the jerseys of their favourite sports teams – both different, and Shaun could only imagine it caused more than a few fights. He remembered how his brother and father would bicker over their differences over Manchester United and Manchester City. Football was a big conflict in their house when John had been around.

"Hey! It's Uncle Shaun!" one of the boys yelled, and Shaun recognised him as Claude and he smiled over at him.

"Yeah, Uncle Shaun's back!" Caleb cried, bounding over.

"Hey boys, how's life?" he asked, and they both nattered on about what school was like, how they were, what their mother had tried feeding them for dinner last night and how her cooking was toxic.

"Sounds fun," the twenty two year old chuckled, relaxing in his chair as the fence slid open again and a blond kid with glasses poked his head through. He spotted Shaun and grinned widely, turning his head the other way to look back where he'd just been.

"He's here," he called, pushing his way through the fence and tripping over the bottom slat before landing face down in the snow, leaving Shaun chuckling, and then two more kids followed him. Both girls. The first was the girl he remembered they'd all called Cupcake, looking utterly gothic from the waist up, and the huge combat boots only added to the look. It was the bright pink tutu that always caught him off guard, and he smiled at her as she walked over, followed by a girl who was very tall and thin, with short choppy brown hair and a bobby hat pulled over her ears.

"Monty, Cupcake, Pippa," he listed, smiling at them.

"Hi Uncle Shaun," Cupcake called, and that's when Sophie appeared at his side, looking perplexed.

"He's not your uncle," she said, her green eyes expressing such confusion that made the man laugh and pull her into a hug over the armrest of the chair.

"They can call me uncle if they like sweetheart," he laughed, grinning at all seven of the children in the yard. They all grinned back, looking delighted at his being there. "Anyway, what are your plans for this afternoon?"

"We're gonna go ice skating," Pippa replied, shoving her hands in her pocket.

"Sounds fun," he noted, wishing secretly he could go too, but he accepted there were some things he couldn't do. He might convince them to take him down so he could watch, he was always a little nervous about them going on the pond in case the ice wasn't solid enough and one of them went through.

"We just need to wait for Jack to check the ice," Monty blurted, then five pairs of eyes darted around to him, and Shaun watched as stricken expressions crossed their faces, Jamie shooting him a warning look which made Monty shrink back.

"Who's Jack?" he asked, glancing around at them all.

"Just a friend," Jamie said quickly, and the others all nodded in agreement.

"Well... why have I never met him?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

"We only met him this year," Claude cut in, looking about at the others for support. "He's, um, a little bit older, but he takes care of us."

Something triggered in Shaun that made him wonder if this Jack character was safe for them to be around. He'd read enough stories in the papers of guys that hung around little kids, and as much as he didn't want to jump to conclusions he wondered why they were all being so secretive about him, and what exactly he was doing hanging around with kids that were younger than him.

"How old is he?" he asked, and he heard his own tone change, and he sounded very concerned, very worried. They all looked at one another, but there was no way they could fob this off, and Shaun watched as Jamie rolled his eyes at Monty, silently blaming him for bringing this up.

"About seventeen, eighteen," Caleb muttered, and Shaun narrowed his eyes.

"And... he's just checking the ice?" he asked, glancing around at them.

"Yeah," Jamie said, nodding. "He's just making sure we're safe, he's not a bad guy."

"I like him, he's nice," Sophie chirped up, and Shaun looked down at her, forcing a smile slightly.

"Is he really?" he asked, and she nodded eagerly. Part of him wanted to see about going with them, but that would only look suspicious. And they were all smart enough to know not to hang around with people who were dangerous or seemed dangerous. So he let them all go after Jamie wheeled him back up the ramp, Sophie sat on his knee because she'd begged him to read her a story, and they waved goodbye to him.

He couldn't stop himself thinking though...

Who the hell was Jack?


	5. Chapter 5

Um, yeah. I'm working on a lot of other things right now so it's all a bit hectic for me. I'm trying to figure out some epilogue chapters for 'The End Of Summer' because it's been months since I've finished it and I really, really miss the story. How messed up is that? I miss a fic and an OC I made up but I feel like it's part of me and I'm not ready to let go. Ugh, I know.

So anyways, while I'm trying to sort things out please enjoy this chapter! And review if you can :)

* * *

"So what story shall we read Sophie?" Shaun asked, wheeling himself through into the sitting room, picking the bag up for the catheter and putting it on the couch before heaving himself out of the chair and planting himself firmly on the couch, patting his lap so Sophie could jump on him.

"I want to tell you a story!" she cried, clambering onto his knee and making herself comfortable.

"Okay then," he grinned, relaxing back into the couch. "What's the story about?"

"Bunny!" she cried, and he cocked a brow at her.

"Bunny?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck. "Which bunny?"

"Easter Bunny," Sophie said with a shrug, grinning up at him, and he watched as she poked one of her teeth with her tongue, and it wobbled slightly. She seemed to be thinking about the story she was going to say and smiled slightly as she thought more and more about it.

"Don't poke your tooth love, it'll come out when it's ready," he urged her gently, sticking his own tongue out at her and chuckling when she mimicked him. "Anyways, what's the story?"

"Um, well last year Jamie's tooth fell out, and he put it under his pillow. Then I was in my bed, and I heard a huge noise! It was like bang! Bang bang! And it woke me up, ya know? I woke up. So I went out of my bed and to Jamie's room to, um, so he was okay. Yeah? And then Santa was in there! And Bunny and Tooth Fairy."

"Right," he said quietly, tilting his head to the side and marvelling at her imagination. "What happened next?"

"There was a ball, and I walked through it and I was in Bunny's home, and they came and we made eggs!"

"O... okay." It seemed bizarre, her story, but he found his mind looping back to her telling him about the Tooth Fairy being there in the room. He found himself drawn to it like a moth to flame and he blinked his brown eyes a few times as he tried to think how to word so the five year old wouldn't become suspicious. Sophie could be very suspicious when she wanted to be.

"What did they look like?" he said finally, deciding to pan it out for a small while. "The Easter Bunny?"

"Um, he's tall, like, super tall! Bigger than daddy, and he's white and grey and he's got eyes like me, and he has sticks that he throws and they zoom back like zooooom! And he's from Aust- Australasia."

"Australia?" he corrected, and she nodded her head excitedly. He figured the sticks that 'zoomed back' were boomerangs then, because he didn't know what else would fly back and be wooden. "And Santa?"

"He's taller than Bunny, and he's got a big coat and swords and he has fights and he's so cool," she gasped, resting her head upon his shoulder and smiling to herself as she played with the ties on his jacket, twirling them around her fingers.

"And... the Tooth Fairy," he asked, and he could feel his heart pounding away as she blinked her eyes and bit her lip as she thought about it, a small smile spreading across her lips.

"She's pretty," she said finally. "She looks like a bird, but she's a lady, and she's like a rainbow."

Sophie paused and looked up at him, her eyes narrowing slightly, and he wondered for a moment what she was thinking about.

"You'd really like her Uncle Shaun, she makes people happy again. You believe me right?"

"Course I do Soph, I believe every word you say," he reassured her, stroking her hair as she pulled on the ties, knotting them together and then undoing them again. "So is this the Bunny you started telling me about before?" he asked, and she nodded grinning up at him.

"Yeah... don't tell Jamie I told you, okay? He said I wasn't allowed to tell."

"Pinky swear," he whispered, extending his little finger, and she wrapped hers around his, and that was that.

* * *

"So how was ice skating?" Shaun asked, looking at Jamie sitting down the table, before he ate a mouthful of mashed potatoes. God, Lindsey's cooking was amazing, but the helpings were just too big. He'd gotten into the bad habit of not eating properly back at home, and now Shaun struggled to eat when he was supposed to.

"You went ice skating?" John asked sharply, looking at his son. "That ice is dangerous, why'd you do that?"

Jamie visibly shrank in his seat, and Shaun realised with a grimace that he wasn't supposed to say anything. Or at least say anything but that. He mouthed 'sorry' to Jamie and slumped in his own seat while Jamie cooked up an excuse.

"Um, yeah, but we checked the ice first, it was really solid," he explained, sipping his juice.

"And how did you check the ice? Did one of you walk out onto it? Jamie, do you know how many people die each year from drowning because they go through ice?"

John's voice was raising, and Shaun fumbled about his own mind for something to help Jamie, when it struck him.

"I wheeled myself out on it," he blurted. "I went first and checked it, stayed on it for a while then I brought Sophie back to read her a story cos she was cold. I should've thought about it... sorry."

Jamie gaped at him, then nodded hastily when his dad looked at him and even Sophie had enough sense to stay quiet and go along with it. John looked thoroughly disgruntled and stabbed at his steak, glaring up at Shaun.

"You should know better than leaving them," he hissed, cutting at the meat angrily, not really getting anywhere with it though. "God Shaun, are you thick?"

"Must be," Shaun mumbled, poking his potatoes around his plate. John threw his cutlery down on the plate and fixed Shaun with a piercing, angry gaze.

"Seriously? What if there was a part you hadn't checked and it was weaker than another? What if one of the kids did go through when you came back here? You wouldn't have been able to help them!" he shouted, and Shaun watched as his ears turned red as anger coursed through him.

"Help them?" Shaun asked, feeling his chest tighten a little. "John, how would I help them even if I was there? I can't run for help, I can't jump in after them or swim them to safety. I'm dead from the waist down!"

"Can we not do this at the table?" Lindsey interjected, biting her lip, but a sharp look from her husband made her sigh and look away. The brothers always argued the first few days Shaun was there, it was something she'd gotten used to, and something the kids knew happened.

"You shouldn't have let them go in the first place Shaun, and rolling yourself onto the ice doesn't mean it's completely solid, you're hardly the heaviest man going are you?" John snapped, crossing his arms.

"Well I'm sorry, but you know the other kids' parents let them go and am I meant to tell Jamie no? No he can't hang out with his mates?"

"Have some sense next time and maybe suggest something else! God sake my kid could have drowned!"

"But he didn't!" Shaun yelled, for the first time in any argument raising his voice, and the whole table froze, John's mouth dropped open. Never in his life had he heard Shaun shout, it just wasn't in his nature. "Shit John, you think I would've let him go if I thought he was going to kick it? You think I'm really that irresponsible. He's still sat there and instead of singing the same tune over and over about how stupid I am maybe you should just tell him not to go on the pond again?"

Shoving himself away from the table, Shaun wheeled himself through to the sitting room and grabbed a jacket, pulling it on roughly before heading for the front door. John was already stood there though, looking down at his little brother with weary brown eyes.

"Where are you going?" he asked, sounding tired.

"Out, so shift," Shaun grumbled, edging towards the door.

"I'd rather you not," John said, running his fingers through his hair.

"I'm not a kid, you can't stop me."

"Then I'm coming with you," John stated, grabbing his jacket before opening the door for Shaun. The younger man looked up at his brother though, staring, feeling angry, frustrated and perplexed.

"I'd rather you not," Shaun mimicked, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not a kid, you can't stop me," John replied with a smirk, following his little brother through the door. "Anyway, we need to talk."


	6. Chapter 6

Hey!

So I've been struggling to write a lot lately. It's been a tit.

Anyways, I have a poll on my bio, please check it out.

And please review :)

* * *

"You didn't test the ice, did you?" John asked, walking slowly alongside Shaun as he wheeled himself down the street in his chair.

"No, I was covering for him," Shaun shrugged, knowing by the time they got home again Jamie would be in bed and John wouldn't be able to tell him off for it. He might as well come clean now.

"I figured as much," the older brother sighed, shaking his head. "He needs to learn to take responsibility though, he won't have you to cover for him forever."

"No, I know," Shaun shrugged, pushing the wheels forward and gliding slightly across the ice. "But I'm meant to cover for him while I'm here, it's what cool uncles are for."

John grinned down at Shaun, then almost as soon as it happened the smile slid off his face and was replaced with a frown.

"I want you to move over here," John blurted, looking sheepish, but there was something in his demeanour that told Shaun he was serious. "You're not happy in England... I wasn't either, and it's a lot nicer out here. You'll be around family."

"What about dad?" Shaun asked, resting back in his chair.

"Dad... God I dunno. He doesn't act like we're there when we do go to see him, and he's a miserable drunk and... and he's always drunk."

"Only way he copes," Shaun muttered, feeling surprised that he was defending the father who'd drowned himself in booze and was probably pickling his liver as they spoke. It was hard to think about it, but he knew how badly his father felt about everything. How he blamed himself for his wife's death even though there was nothing he could possibly have done, and how drinking was his way of ignoring reality. It was true he was a miserable old bastard, but the brunette didn't think leaving him completely to his own devices would help. He'd drink himself into the grave quicker than he was doing now. He'd feel abandoned, and Shaun knew how that felt, and he didn't want to do that to his dad.

"It sounds bad Shaun, but he needs to get over it. It's been seventeen years since mum died," John replied, equally as quietly.

"You don't just get over something like that," Shaun snapped, glaring up at his brother.

"I didn't mean it like that, and you know it," John snapped heatedly, glaring back. "I meant he needs to move on, and you know it."

"Yeah, but I've not gotten over it, have I?" Shaun cried, throwing his arms up into the air. "I'm still depressed over it!"

"You've gone through a lot more shit than dad, he doesn't deserve to still be unhappy about it. I mean, yeah, it's sad. And I still cry every year on her birthday, and the day she died, and Christmas isn't as fun because I know it's just another year I've not had a mum there to fuss over how the stockings are hung. And Mothers' Day is shit! It's absolutely fucking shit! But you saw her die. I can't even imagine what that would do to a kid... I mean, if Jamie saw Lindsey die he'd... it'd mess him up. It'd mess any kid up..."

"What're you getting at?" Shaun grumbled, rubbing a pressure spot on his temple.

"You had to go through her death, and becoming a paraplegic, and fostering, and bullying, and people judge you because you have scars on your face and they reckon you've been tangled up in something you shouldn't have been because you come across as rough and uncaring a lot of the time... but it's because you've had it hard, and you deserve to have some good now. You deserved it a long time ago, and everyone else was too selfish to see that," John cried, and Shaun could hear the hurt in his voice and how his words were struggling to come out. Looking up, he could see tears brimming in those brown eyes and he felt sad for his brother.

"John..." he tried, but he was shushed.

"No, listen. We were all too bothered about handling our own grief to see you were hurting more, and I'm sorry Shaun, I really am mate."

Feeling sadness sweep over him, Shaun opened his arms and John was pulling him into an embrace before he had chance to blink. It was touching, but in a sense Shaun also felt uncomfortable with the action. He knew deep down his family loved him, wanted him to be there and hell... the kids would love to have him around more often. But he didn't feel like he deserved the love they gave him, didn't deserve their patience or understanding or all the times they picked him up when he was down.

"Alright mate, off me now," Shaun muttered, and John tutted before stepping back.

"Don't go trying to shove me away, I'm your brother."

"Get out of my head," Shaun sniggered, wheeling himself on, listening to John's footsteps as he followed.

"Don't though. I know you're down now, and I know you have been since you were a kid and it's wrong, and I am sorry that I didn't do more. But I want to help you now, and I want you to let me."

"Right..." Shaun mumbled, stopping and looking up at John. "Don't say sorry though."

"Why?" John asked, narrowing his eyes and cocking his head slightly to the side.

"You don't have to be sorry," the younger of the brothers said, raising his arm and scratching at the nape of his neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry though."

"Why?" John asked again, looking shocked. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

"For being an arse," Shaun said flippantly, although he was lying, and he knew on some level John knew he was lying too.

He was sorry for acting like his life was in tatters when he shouldn't, because although he'd had bad things happen to him he had it so much easier than a lot of people in the world. And although he should be moving on with his life he still let himself dwell over the image of his dead mother in the car and his screams would ring in his ears, when he should have stopped them so long ago.

And he made himself worse by sitting alone and thinking about it all, getting angry over not being able to do things he should have accepted long ago, but he still couldn't accept them and he felt like he was stunting his own recovery by hanging onto stupid hopes that one day he'd just maybe get better. In his mind it was stupid that he couldn't move on, and stupid he got angry, and he was pathetic. He was pathetic for letting himself get depressed when he'd had to be strong for so long and he'd just given up, and although he'd been down before and he'd had to put up with name calling and shit like that he still let it get to him when in reality it was just kids being cruel and he should just... get over himself.

He was sorry for being depressed, and for shoving everybody away and making them worry when he shouldn't give them reason to.

He was just sorry.


	7. Chapter 7

I'm making a sequel to The End Of Summer. I think. I dunno how it's going yet :p

Anyways, as for this fic, I hope you're enjoying.

* * *

"I lost a tooth! Sophie screamed, running into the sitting room where Shaun had been sat all morning dwelling on the conversation he'd had with John the night before, trying really hard to focus on Catching Fire. He glanced up at Sophie, his brown eyes darting to see the tooth Sophie held in her palm, and she extended her arm so it was more or less under his nose. The little girl beamed up at him, her green eyes twinkling as she held the white tooth up high.

"Does that mean the Tooth Fairy is visiting tonight?" he asked, smiling at her enthusiasm.

"Yeah, or one of her mini fairies," she remarked casually, shrugging as she did so and he cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Mini fairies?" he asked, but then Jamie seemed to swoop in out of nowhere and he looked mortified.

"Sophie! We can't talk about that!" he cried, standing awkwardly at the door, wringing his hands as Shaun turned to stare at him, scrutinising his actions, and the boy seemed to shrink slightly under that piercing gaze.

"Why not?" she asked, huffing slightly as she glanced down at her lap. "He won't tell anyone."

"I know, but... you know."

"Guys, you better not be keeping secrets from me," Shaun interjected, and the kids looked at him before looking back at one another.

"I told him yesterday about them all being in your room last year," sophie said simply to a speechless Jamie, then she turned to Shaun again. "They're all real uncle Shaun, I promise they are. It wasn't a tall tale."

For a moment Shaun stared at Sophie, slightly stunned that she was being so blunt about it all. A small part of him believed her yesterday when she told him, and the pinky swear had been more for her benefit than his. But a large part of him told him it was just her imagination and he was a bit flabbergasted at her declaration. His adult response was to smile kindly and brush it off, but he'd pinky sworn and in all honesty he kind of believed her.

"I believe you," he said finally, and Sophie beamed up at him.

"Oh great! If Tooth comes tonight you'll love her!" she cried, jumping up and flinging her arms around his neck.

"What's the like?" he asked without thinking.

"She's really nice, but she likes teeth too much," the little blond girl replied, pulling a slight face that made Shaun chuckle.

"Understandable, seeing what her job is," Shaun mused. He turned to look at Jamie who was stood in the door, his mouth agape as he listened to the conversation between his uncle and little sister about mythical beings being real as if it were the most natural and ordinary thing in the world.

"You believe her?" Jamie asked suddenly, approaching his sister and uncle, looking a bit bemused.

"yeah, why not? You wouldn't lie to me would you Soph?"

"Nope," she promised with a grin. "I told you that yesterday."

"Why though, specifically?" Jamie pressed, and Shaun sighed, wondering how to phrase it without sounding silly. Shrugging, he smiled at the kids, because no matter what he said they were discussing something that would be silly to other people, but between them it was something they believed in, and he had to keep that in mind.

"I believe in her," he said simply. "The Tooth Fairy. I always have and always will."

"Oh... cool!" Jamie cried, grinning himself as he bound over. "You'll have to meet her like Sophie said."

"Ye- maybe," Shaun stammered, not really knowing where the kids were taking this, and if he should appreciate it.

"I can ask her tonight if she'll say hello!" Sophie yelled excitedly, but then her face fell. "Oh, but you can't tell mommy or daddy."

"Course not love, don't worry about it."

They both smiled warmly at one another, and Jamie was grinning too before he grabbed Sophie's hand and they ran away chattering about their new master plan while Shaun sat there feeling his stomach know.

He could potentially meet one of his childgood heroes, a woman who's kept him alive up until this point simply by being there for him to dream about. Because the magic was too good to give up on. But what if he cocked it up? What if she – like so many others – was condescending to him about being wheelchair bound, or smothered him in sympathy?

He couldn't deal with it.


	8. Chapter 8

Another chapter :)

I'm having really bad writers block. I'm sorry about that. I'll try to write at least a page a day for this fic but I have sequels for other things and oneshot stories and things like that. I need something I can sink my teeth into. Something I wouldn't normally write.

Someone got an idea for a Jackrabbit fic? I know I've got a couple of them but I write them when I'm in a funk and I bust out of it all like YEAH!

Anyways, if you do, drop the idea in a review. If not, enjoy anyways.

* * *

John and Lindsey had asked Shaun if he was alright babysitting that night while they went out for a drink. They'd not had time along together for an age and a half, so he said yes because it was only nice of him and he knew how much they needed their alone time – plus it was a good way to ensure they were out of the house for the night. At around ten o'clock, they were all downstairs and Sophie had brought her pillow down to put her Tooth under on the coffee table. She insisted that she at least stick to that tradition because otherwise where would Tooth think to get it?

The little blond was lying across the couch, her feet resting on Jamie's lap and her head resting upon Shaun's leg, her thumb in her mouth as she stared wide eyed at the television where Rapunzel was arguing with Mother Gothel about fighting the witch for the rest of her life unless she could save the man she loved – Eugene Fitzherburt, better known as Flynn Rider.

"Keep fighting!" Sophie screamed suddenly as Gothel chained Eugene up, and Rapunzel knelt by his side and told him she'd heal him. Shaun could feel tears pricking his eyes as he watched the animated couple stare longingly at one another for a second before Rapunzel went to heal him.

"Hurry! He's gonna die!" Sophie sobbed, throwing herself on Shaun's lap and curling up, using his sleeve to wipe her nose.

"Shush, he's not," Jamie soothed, just at the moment when the dashing young man on the screen cut Rapunzel's hair, the magic in the hair went, Gothel died, and so did Eugene. "Or... maybe he is."

"Wha- no..." Sophie whimpered, before bursting into tears and latching onto Shaun as her only comfort since Eugene had died.

"Keep watching sweetheart," he said gently, nudging her chin up towards the television, and they watched silently – save Sophie's sniffles – as Rapunzel cried and her tears brought him back to life. He was nearly deafened as Sophie screamed her approval, jumping up and bouncing on his legs. He was glad in a sense he couldn't feel them, because she would have really hurt him if he could.

The celebrations went on as the character's narrated their happily ever after, and Sophie cheered as she bounced around the room. Shaun felt the need to divert her attention away from the film as she started prattling on about how handsome Eugene was, and decided to breach the topic of the tooth Fairy.

"She's called Toothiana," Jamie explained, sitting upright as he explained all about her and her job and how amazingly lovely she was. He paused, then smiled a little. "Just so you know, she prefers being called Tooth."

"Okay, that's fair enough," Shaun said, trying to keep track of all the stories Jamie was telling him, and trying not to chuckle at the woman's name when he didn't even know her. It was like she was made for the job though, fate coming as obviously as it ever could. Perhaps teeth were named after her, like the toilet was sometimes called the John, after it's inventor.

"She's really pretty!" Sophie chimed in, before stopping herself from bouncing on Shaun's lap as she yawned widely.

"Maybe you should go to sleep, she might come then," Shaun suggested, relaxing into the sofa cushions while stifling a yawn himself. All their excitement had left him feeling exhausted hours ago, but staying awake was important. Besides meeting Tooth, he had to make sure the kids didn't rip the house apart after all the sugar they'd ingested. Jamie had gotten sherbet off his friend Pippa, and Sophie had taken to spoon feeding herself Nutella from the jar. He'd told them both off for having sweets so late, got them to fetch their toothbrushes, and watched them brush their teeth in the downstairs bathroom. Neither had been pleased with being told off, and Shaun had had to remind them who was coming tonight.

"In fact, does she even come when you're awake?"

Jamie looked up at him and smiled slightly.

"She never used to, obviously, but since we helped her she does."

"You'll have to remind me what you did to help her again," Shaun groaned tiredly, he was starting ti get a headache.

"Helped her, Santa, Bunny, Sandy and Jack beat Pitch."

"Right, and Pitch is the nightmare guy," Shaun recalled, closing his eyes and ignoring the stars that were forming or how heavy his eyelids felt.

"Yeah, the Bogeyman."

"This is all... a lot to take in," the older brunette remarked, shaking his head while he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You'll get used to it," came a soft voice, and the three of them turned their heads sharply to the woman in the doorway. While Sophie and Jamie leapt up from the couch and ran to her happily, embracing like old friends, Shaun gaped. Her body was covered in feathers, shimmering and bright, of all different colours of the rainbow, and every variant in between. She was petite, and her face was beautiful with large poinkish eyes and held such kindness and warmth as they darted up and swept over him. Her complexion was fair, with pale skin where you could see it, and rosy cheeks that seemed rosier as her feathers seemed to make her glow.

"Hello!" she cried excitedly, zipping across the room to kneel on the couch beside him, clasping his hand with both of hers and shaking it emphatically.

"Hi," he said quietly, taking in the scene before him. "You're a fairy," he added, feeling numb, and she laughed

"Yep, that pretty much sums it up. And I must say, your powers of deduction are impeccable."

"Tooth, how busy are you?" Jamie asked, sitting on the carpet in front of the couch and smiling up at her.

"Tonight I'm not, but it really depends on the day," she said gently, reaching down to him and stroking her fingers through his hair.

"I was just wondering if you could stay and keep uncle Shaun company since it's nearly time for bed," the boy told her with a shrug. "He gets lonely."

Shaun felt mortified, looking at the kid with wide eyes. Firstly because the boy seemed to have some insight into his mind when he'd never really let on about it, unless their father had spoken about it in front of them. Secondly because he'd told Tooth that fact so outright like it was nothing significant, but it was. He'd thought as he'd grown up that the feeling of loneliness he felt would be one he could repress or overcome, but it had carried on as normal since he was young. It was painful, and he felt like he was always suffering, but he didn't want that to come out, so he'd never told anyone how badly it really felt for him when he felt alone.

Tooth spoke first, her eyes kind but as soon as she uttered her first word Shaun coud hear a tone of hesitation in her voice.

"I wouldn't mind, but it's really up to your uncle," she said, turning to look at the twenty-two year old and he wiped the stricken look off his face and replaced it with a small smile. A false smile, but a smile non-the-less.

"I don't think she'd want to stay, I'm not very good company," he said, trying to brush the idea off, but the young woman before him shook her head, looking intent on something.

"I really don't mind! I talk a lot too, so you don't have to make much conversation. I'm sure you're a great listener."

"Then I... I suppose I wouldn't mind either."

Truth was he didn't want to be left along with her, not knowing how to talk to her properly, but it seemed rude to turn her away, especially seeing as he'd already made one weak excuse.

"Great!" Jamie enthused, oblivious to his uncle's plight, and leaving him to wonder what the hell he'd talk about when the kids went to sleep. Sophie managed to turn the conversation away from Tooth staying as she bounced around the sitting room with her tooth in hand,

"Look! Look it fell out!" she cried, jumping on the sofa and planting herself on Shaun's lap, holding the tooth out to the fairy.

"Oh! How pretty!" Tooth gasped, taking the little tooth from the child and holding it up close. "You took very good care of it."

"I've been good," Sophie agreed, then yawned widely. Shaun chuckled and tilted her chin up, looking into her tired eyes.

"I think it's bedtime," he said gently. "Get your pillow, off to bed."

"Okay," she grumbled, pushing her long blond hair out of her eyes before hugging him. "Night night, love you."

"Love you too, see you in the morning."

The five year old went off to her room, hopping up the stairs as she went.

"I'm going too," Jamie yawned, hugging Shaun and tooth before he left.

"They're good kids," Tooth said quietly, smiling slightly at Shaun.

"Yeah, when they wanna be," he agreed with a small chuckle.

There was a silence as Tooth regarded him, looking him up and down, and her smile faded a little.

"How have you been?" she asked, and he froze as he pondered it.

"Okay," he said, not really sure if he was or not, and Tooth didn't seem convincedeither with the look she gave him.

"You've not though, have you?" she mumbled, lacing her fingers together. She looked concerned, and he hated that. He hated the feeling of people looking at him worriedly, hated feeling weak because of that.

"I will be, I'm dealing with it," he reassured her.

"Okay then," she said, and Shaun was surprised to find she didn't sound condescending or sceptical, but the look deep within her mauve eyes showed him she still worried. Although it hurt a little to know he'd somehow put that doubt there, and somehow she knew he was lying, but she knew not to challenge him.

"Can you tell me about yourself?" he asked, resting back on the sofa. He watched Tooth as her bright eyes shot up towards the ceiling, as if she were searching for information, and she chewed her lip with pearly white teeth.

"Depends on what you want to know... but my name is Toothiana, and I collect the teeth from children because they hold memories."

"They what?" Shaun cut in, curious.

"They hold the most important memories from childhood, and I keep the teeth safe so the memories are kept safe within them. When children need those memories most I return them."

That's really nice of you," he said gently, and she smiled at him,"

"I think it's important to do it," she nodded.

They lapsed into silence again, and it surprised Shaun to find it didn't feel awkward, as questions were pouring into his mind, and he didn't know which to ask first. Tooth waited patiently for him to ask what was on his mind. But just as he settled on one the front door clicked, and John and Lindsey were home.

"Come back at some point?" he asked the fairy quickly, "please?"

"Course," she agreed, and in the space of time it took him to look to the front door and back again, she was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

I don't know if there's much interest in this story, but since I started writing it I'll try to finish it. Might be at my own leisure but ah well.

Anyways, please review, it's always appreciated. And I apologise now for any typos or grammar errors. I don't really check these things, though I know I should...

Enjoy?

* * *

John had taken Lindsey out with the kids for the day. Sophie had been begging for weeks to go to the zoo in the next town over, and they'd finally relented and said they'd go since everybody had the day off work and school seeing as it was a bank holiday. They'd invited Shaun along but the young man just felt too tired after spending half the night awake thinking about Tooth.

He didn't know what to think about her though, he was a little overwhelmed at the whole thing. The fact that one of his fairy tales had sat next to him, living and breathing, proof of what he'd staunchly believed in all these years made his head spin. He'd felt her warmth as she'd shook his hand, and all he could think because of that was how very, very cold he felt in comparison.

"Don't do this to yourself Shaun," he hissed, urging himself to not get wrapped up in his mind, but alreeady he could feel his chest compressing and his body seemed too heavy. "Fuck."

Depression was an ugly thing. It stayed quietly in the corner of his mind for a small while until he thought that maybe – just maybe – he'd got it under wraps. He could maybe get up in the morning without having to force himself to push the duvet down, and he wouldn't instantly dread the day. He could enjoy things, smile and not feel like he was putting on a mask – even to his family.

Then all of a sudden it would come out roaring, and it screamed hateful words in every permeation of his own voice, and it would crush him, suffocating him under all the hurtful words. It had gotten to the point where he believed all those cruel words, where every slur rang true and he'd convinced himself he really was worthless. Really was a pathetic excuse for a human being. That everything really was pointless and hopeless, and his head was so filled with venom that there was no chance of him getting over this.

He'd already let his accident dictate his life, and after seventeen years he'd not managed to recover, so really what was the chance he ever would?

"God," he moaned, pressing his hands over his eyes, squeezing them thus to try and stop the tears that were threatening. "Fuck, why now?"

He choked a sob, and that was all it took for the floodgates to open.

"Why now?" he asked again, his voice rising with every syllable. "What for? What the fuck have I dont this time? Fuck! Fuck it! Just... fuck!"

His body trembled as he sobbed, each tear that fell making him hate himself that little bit more, and he slumped back into the pillows, willing himself to stop. But he couldn't.

"Why me?" he choked, his voice a strangled whisper, exhaustion catching up with him. "Why me? Why..."

He eventually fell asleep, curled up on the sofa, repeatedly asking what he'd done to deserve this misery.

* * *

It felt like he'd only been asleep minutes, but when Shaun eventually cracked his eyes open and stared groggily about the room, he could see the sky was dark beyond the window blinds, and the lamp beside him had been switched on so the room was basked in a warm golden glow. A thin blanket had been thrown over him to keep him warm as night came in, and it had been tucked carefully around his legs and his body, folded down just below his neck so he was comfortable.

Turning his head, he looked to his side and saw Sophie curled up next to him, stuffed sheep clutched to her chest and her own blanket pulled over her legs. She was staring at him with her big green eyes, and her blond hair had been pulled back into a high ponytail so for once he could see her face clearly. And even in her young eyes, he could see a sense of worry and he felt guilt shake him.

"You've been asleep for a long time," she whispered, and he pulled his arm out from under the blanket and took her hand in his. "We were worried about you."

"I was just tired," he whispered back, blinking is brown eyes as she stared up at him with her bright green eyes.

"You looked like you'd been crying," she told him, shuffling over to him and wrapping her arms around his chest, hugging herself close to him.

"I had," he said quietly, stooping his head to kiss the little girl atop her head and pull her a bit tighter to his chest. "Cos I missed you."

"Me?" she asked, looking up with a grin.

"Especially you," he told her, forcing a smile and hating himself for it. "What time is it anyways?"

"Late, I sneaked downstairs to see you," Sophie giggled, stuffing her fist in her mouth to muffle the sound.

"You better sneak back upstairs then," Shaun teased, poking her in the ribs.

"Ow, okay! Okay! Stop being mean uncle Shaun!" she cried, but she was laughing as he tickled her, watching her squirm about on the sofa as she tried desperately to escape him.

"What's the magic word?" he asked, continuing to tickle her.

"Please! Please stop!" she screamed, and he stopped purely to shush her, finding himself laughing as she lay there helplessly giggling, tears streaming down her face as she clutched her stomach. He lifted her gently up off the sofa cushion and hugged her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him back, still giggling but calming down quickly.

"I love you uncle Shaun," she said gently, kissing his cheek before she leaned back and looked closely at his face. He'd shaved yesterday morning, so there was only a little stubble upon his chin and the scars along the left side of his face were showing clearly. Sophie delicately traced her finger along the longest, deepest scar, pursing her lips.

"I love you too Sophie," he told her, staying still and trying to ignore how her finger was tracing the lines on his face.

"Are you sad about how you look?" she asked suddenly and out of the blue. "Because I think you look handsome no matter what, and I love you lots."

Shocked, Shaun pulled his niece close to him and hugged her, trying to hold back a fresh wave of tears that were pricking his eyes. The girl was only five, but she was already so sensitive and caring and it touched him.

"I do love you Shaun," she whispered, and he noticed she was falling to sleep cuddled up to his chest. "Sometimes more than daddy, but you can't tell him."

"You can't love me more than your dad," the young man chuckled, pulling his blanket over the both of them and settling down to go to sleep again.

"I only said sometimes," the blond yawned, nuzzling her face into his chest to rid herself of an itchy nose and raising her hand to grab a fistful of his shirt, keeping him close. "It's because sometimes you need more love."


	10. Chapter 10

I know it's taking me ages to update and stuff, but I'm really struggling to write this thing. To write anything really. I'm in a bad place again, and it's not fun or anything and I'm hating everything...

But, when the going gets tough, the tough get going. I must carry on. Such is life.

This is the last chapter I have written up, and I will be writing more, it'll just take me some time. I will do it. I promise. It's probably just going to take a little while to get my motivation going.

As always, I hope you enjoy, and please review :)

* * *

When the twenty two year old woke again a small while later, he felt the gentle weight of his sleeping niece on his chest, and he lay there quietly and stayed as still as he could to make sure he didn't wake the little child. He didn't bother opening his eyes, knowing that it wasn't close to morning yet because the room was still dark save the lamp, and no natural light was streaming in through the windows to make his eyelids glow. A movement beside him caused him to turn his head and crack an eyelid open, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Tooth sat there watching him sleep quietly.

"Hi," she whispered, stifling a giggle as he righted himself and made sure Sophie settled back down against him.

"You scared the life out of me," he said hoarsely, staring at the feathered woman who had been there for who knew how long watching him and Sophie sleep.

"Sorry, I did say I'd come back though," she chuckled softly, smiling at him. "And I figured today would be as good as any day."

"I'm a bit... tied up now," Shaun whispered, gesturing to the sleeping little blond curled up against him, snoring a little as she dreamt.

"She won't wake up if we're both quiet," Tooth pointed out, and Shaun couldn't help but agree. Sophie slept like a log, even the fire alarm wouldn't wake her up. It reminded him a little of how a teenager would just conk out, dead to the world. Shaun watched as Tooth leaned over and brushed Sophie's blond locks back from her face, smiling down fondly at the child and as he breathed in he caught a scent of lilies and orchids, very sweet and calming.

"You've not been good today, have you?" she asked, leaning back and looking at the man sat beside her. Shaun went quiet again. Turning away from her, he stared off into space, wondering how she knew everything about him without even being there to know what had been going on.

"How do you know?" he asked, focusing his chocolate brown eyes on the way the stitches on the chair opposite were frayed, and avoiding eye contact with the woman who was so desperately trying to make it.

"I have ways of keep an eye on people Shaun... I just want you to be okay, and I know you keep telling me you're fine and you're dealing with it, but I know you're not. I just... I want you to be okay."

"Right," he replied numbly, keeping his eyes fixed on the threads. He was avoiding looking at Tooth because he could feel shame building up in him. He knew she was concerned and he hated the fact that he made her feel that way. He knew what negativity could do to a person, and he hated other people feeling it, especially if it was because of him. And he hated the fact that it was his fault, and little by little he began to loath himself.

"Stop," she said suddenly, and he looked up sharply to see her mauve eyes were trained on him, and she looked pleadingly at him. "Stop thinking."

"Stop thinking?" he asked, raising a brow at her, and she sighed and shook her head slightly.

"You're thinking negatively about yourself and you have been doing since you were five. I know Shaun, I've collected your teeth. They're meant to hold the most important and often happiest memories of childhood, but all of yours just make me... sad."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and he watched the feathered woman as she shook her head.

"Don't be. It's never been your fault. You're depressed and it's a horrible thing that hurts your mind... and I'm going to do my damned best to try and make you happier."

"I'd rather you not," Shaun said quietly, stroking Sophie's hair back out of her face as she shifted on him, finding a more comfortable spot to settle in while she slept and he dragged his fingers over his cheek and through his hair, tracing the scars along the side of his face absently. He knew where they were, knew every twist and turn and how many inches they stretched and how deep they were... memorising them over the years, letting his physical scars dwell in his mind so each line over his skin sunk into his soul and scarred him there too.

Tooth reached over slowly and took his hand in hers, her fingers twining with his so carefully it was as if she were scared he would break.

"You're lying," she said quietly, and for the briefest of moments Shaun got lost in her eyes, found himself feeling lighter and happier already and it startled him because it was only that simple act of human contact and kindness that did it. The knowledge that someone was there for him, however he might protest their help.

"Okay so I am," he admitted, smirking half heartedly. "But you're busy aren't you? You have other things to worry about other than me."

"You're a light Shaun," she whispered her other hand coming up slowly and her fingers ghosting over the scars on his skin. "I can't let you go out."


	11. Chapter 11

I still genuinely have no idea where I'm taking this story, but ya know what? It's gonna be fun... or not. I don't know. There's probably gonna be twists even I don't see, and I'm sorry it's taking so long to get out there, I've had a lot of appointments with the doctors recently and hospital visits. I'm not well at the moment.

Anyways, please enjoy!

* * *

It had been a few nights since Tooth had visited Shaun, and though her words had touched him, he didn't know how to feel. It wasn't so much an anger that filled him now, but an apathy. The man felt, somewhere deep inside, that if he showed such negative emotion again it would only worry the fairy. Not to mention his little niece, who had been following him everywhere for days.

Sophie didn't seem to want to leave his side, was always reading him one of her stories from her books. Simplified versions of Cinderella and The Sleeping Beauty. Shaun, secretly, would much rather have watched them on the television with her, because it took a lot longer and made more sense than her garbled stories. He did appreciate it though. He liked the fact that someone was paying him attention, even if it was just a five year old with choppy blonde hair. But he also felt like he was wasting her time, because she could have been out playing with her friends, or she could be spending some time with Jamie and his lot.

He felt that his depression was making her act too mature far before she was needed to be. She was caring for him in a way a child shouldn't have to, and guilt was flooding him. The brunette found it easier to rid himself of emotion, at least on the surface, and pulling on that old familiar mask with that old cracked smile helped ease Sophie's worries for him just a little.

"Uncle Shaun, can we watch Despicable Me?" she asked, holding the DVD case up to him, her eyes shining with good intent. And he would have said yes if he hadn't watched it four times with her yesterday afternoon. So he forced his lips upwards in a small fake smile, and shook his head gently.

"We've already watched it sweetheart, how about we go out instead?"

And so it was that the pair bundled up in warm clothing. Shaun in a long sleeved, dark blue shirt, a thick black sleeveless duffle coat over the top, and a pair of jeans over his long johns. He needed to keep his legs warm. Useless as they were, if he let them get frostbite then he could get an infection in his bloodstream and it wouldn't be the nicest thing in the world.

Sophie was wearing a bright turquoise turtleneck. It tucked up under her chin, and she pulled on a pair of jeans, and a thick pink coat to keep her warm. John passed over twenty dollars for Shaun to buy them some food and a hot drink when they were out, although really he didn't need it – he had money of his own. He took it anyway, he wasn't arguing with extra money.

"So where are we going?" she asked, giggling as Shaun slipped down the ramp from the house, which for some reason had gathered a layer of ice from the night before, even though it hadn't rained. It wouldn't have been so bad if it were just frost, but the ice was easily an inch thick and it would have taken John too long to clear it before going out, and helping him down the steps seemed like too much effort on anyone's part. He stuck the landing though, looking up at Sophie.

"I thought we'd just go into town, I still have some Christmas shopping to do," he explained with a shrug, scooping up the child and planting her on his lap whilst they set off.

Wheeling down the street was a job and a half today. Apparently everything had gathered a layer of ice, and it was really strange to the twenty-two year old, because he'd been awake all night with insomnia and hadn't heard any rain fall. They did get into the town centre eventually, taking an additional twenty minutes to what it should have because he had to be a little more careful.

It was when the pair were passing the old bronze statue in the heart of the town that they spotted Jamie and his friends, along with a gangly teen aged boy with shocking white hair, a blue hoody, a... crook... and no shoes. Even Shaun wouldn't have gone out without shoes in this weather.

"Jack!" Sophie cried, leaping up from Shaun's lap and pelting towards the boy, who caught her in his arms and hugged her tight, but cast a nervous glance to Shaun. The older man watched bemused as Pippa and Cupcake sidled in front of the two, as if trying to hide Jack. But he was taller than them by far, and Shaun simply rolled up whilst maintaining eye contact with the snowy haired lad.

"You're Jack?" he asked simply, narrowing his eyes. He still found it strange that a teenager would willingly hang around with eleven year old's, but stranger things had happened recently.

"I- you can see me?" the boy asked, his voice cracking with shock and surprise, staring with wide blue eyes and the man in the chair, before turning that same gaze to Jamie, who seemed a little stunned himself.

"Yeah, so you're Jack?" Shaun asked again after a moment of silence, Jamie seeming unable to connect a string of words together, and was just opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish.

"Yeah," he said, nodding, resting his weight upon his crook. "Who are you?"

"Shaun Bennett," Shaun replied, forcing that smile again and extending a hand to the boy, offering a handshake. Jack clasped hands with Shaun, and the older man felt his fingers go numb because of how cold the other one was. "Why are you hanging out with little kids?"

"They're generally the only ones who can see me," Jack explained, looking a little taken aback at having an actual, real conversation with a grown person, but he was trying not to let it phase him. He was trying to concentrate on not whooping with joy, he was being seen by more people, and that was just the best thing in the world for him. "Bennett?"

"Jamie's uncle," Shaun explained, nodding and letting go of Jack's hand, balling his own hand into a fist and releasing it over and over as he tried to coax the blood to flow through them again. "They're the only ones that can see you?"

"Cept you, now," Jack shrugged, but a happy smile came over his face.

"How do you even see him?" Pippa asked, shocked but smiling too.

"Same way I saw Tooth I'm imagining; I believe," Shaun stated, and all of a sudden a group of happy children were jumping about him exclaiming how cool he was, whilst Jack watched on in mild amusement as he tried to calm them down. "I take it you're... like Tooth?"

"Kinda, but I have I different job. I come around here to say hi to these guys, talk to them sometimes when I'm here at night and one or the other isn't sleeping."

"Fair enough..." Shaun trailed off, glancing around at the awestruck children before looking back at Jack and grinning sheepishly. "Anyway, I'll leave you to it, me and Sophie are going Christmas shopping."

They bid their goodbyes, Jack smiling happily before turning back to Jamie and Shaun could hear them as he wheeled down the street with Sophie sat in his lap as they discussed how cool it was that Shaun could see the boy too. It made Shaun wonder, with the way Jack had asked him if he could really see him, if he was glanced over too much. How many children perhaps couldn't see him, and he assumed adults were out of the question.

For hours he and Sophie went around the town, going into various little shops, buying bits and bats to fill stockings and larger presents for Lindsey and John – bath towels he knew they needed since the other day he died them pink when he helped Sophie do the laundry and one of her pink shirts snuck its way in there with them.

They rested up at an internet cafe, and while Sophie drank hot chocolate and ate a huge cupcake to herself, chattering to the waitress about how much fun she was having, Shaun paid his way onto one of the spare computers and logged himself into Amazon, purchasing a Rapunzel dress for Sophie – because she was the child's favourite Disney princess – and a pair of ice skates for Jamie since his old ones were getting a bit ratty and the blade was so dull it was hard to move around in them.

Doing it on this computer meant neither child could check the history to see what he'd been searching, and he was already out. It was like killing two birds with one stone. He settled back into his chair when he was finished and logged off the computer and accepted his coffee happily from the waitress before drinking it down and feeling his bones warm that little bit more. The twenty two year old was left wondering when Tooth would visit again. He didn't know if she'd be happy with him or not, he realised that adopting this apathy towards – well – everything was not the healthiest thing to do. But it kept him going, he didn't feel as weak, stupid or useless. It was hard to explain, but in some small way it was easier to control his emotions if he kept them under wraps.

He was aware that sooner or later he'd burst. You could only bottle something up so long before everything spilled over, and he wasn't looking forward to the day he'd break down again. He kind of hoped he wouldn't be alone when he did – having someone there would make it easier to pull himself together... but he didn't want someone there at the same time because he knew he'd feel like he was just being a burden and wasting their time.

"Uncle Shaun?" Sophie piped up after a small while, taking a bite out of her cupcake.

"Yeah?" he asked, snapping his head up to look at her, his brown eyes focused on her bright green ones.

"Are you okay? Like, are you better now? Because you've not been sad for a while and that's good, right?"

He couldn't bare to tell her no... to tell the little girl with the inquisitive and caring green eyes that he was repressing his emotions and at some point he'd simply crumble and that would be the end of it. He couldn't ignore that small smile tugging at the corner of her lips and the hope in her voice when she spoke to him, and make her feel worried about him. So he forced a smile again, one he used all too much, and nodded.

"I guess I'm a little better," Shaun said, watching her eyes light up and feeling his stomach churn in guilt, and as he turned his gaze into the lukewarm dregs of his coffee swilling around in the bottom of his mug, he felt an invisible weight press down on his shoulders and chest, and he knew he wasn't going to do well.


	12. Chapter 12

It's been ages since I last updated, sorry about that. If anyone is still following this thing feel free to message me or something and harass me to update. It's the only way shit's gonna get done.

Cheers.

* * *

That night he lay on the couch whilst sleep eluded him yet again, staring up at the ceiling and wondering how many spiders he could count before the sun came up. Shaun hated spiders, always had and always would, and here in the States they seemed bigger. As if they'd been plied with steroids or let loose near toxic waste and had bulked up to massive sizes.

"Bloody mutant spiders," he muttered to himself.

"I hate them too," came a soft voice, but Shaun didn't even jump. He'd kind of figured Tooth would turn up when he least expected her to, would just be there to comment on something he was thinking, saying or doing.

"They're bigger here than back home," he noted, watching one the size of a two pound coin scuttle behind the mirror.

Tooth hummed in agreement, and they spent a moment in silence before he turned his head at the slight sound of something chattering, and noticed she was trembling slightly because of the cold. Sometime in the middle of the day the heating had gone out, so the house was colder than usual. Extra blankets had been provided, and they were enough for him, but the feathered woman was sitting beside him as she usually was, shivering like a leaf. He noticed something small beside her too, a miniature version of Tooth herself, cuddling into the larger womans' shoulder to try and steal warmth.

"Come here," he said quietly, lifting the blanket up next to him, and in a second Tooth had shifted over and was huddled into his side, a lop sided smile on her face as she warmed up, his arm draped lazily over her shoulder as she huddled further into the blankets and further into his side. Her head was resting on his shoulder, and as much as he wanted to Shaun had to stop himself resting his cheek upon her head. The little fairy, the one who had been on Tooth's shoulder, had come around to his front. He didn't know what possessed him to do it, but he cupped her in his free hand and pulled her close to his chest, the corner of the blanket providing sufficient cover for the little thing to keep warm.

"Who's this?" he asked, trying his absolute hardest to ignore the blush that was creeping its way onto his cheeks as Tooth tentatively put one arm over his chest, keeping close.

"Baby Tooth," Tooth said quietly, and Shaun tore his brown eyes away from the tiny feathered being nestled against his chest to the woman curled into his side.

"Did she fancy tagging along?" he asked, brown eyes fixed on Tooth's mauve ones as she watched him stroke his finger lightly over Baby Tooth's head, feeling how soft the downy blue feathers were there.

"She tends to follow me around, I couldn't really say no to her," the fairy said with a hint of a smile, her eyes moving upwards slowly so they fixed with his. "But I really only come here to talk to you about how you're doing, and I feel like you're diverting from that."

there was a slight pause, and Shaun noticed a slight sting in his chest as he thought about her words. She only came here to see if he was alright. She only came to check up on him. Repressing that hurt – like he did with so many other hurts he felt – he continued talking as if he hadn't noticed.

"I was just curious," he said quietly.

"I know," she whispered, a small wistful smile on her face. "It's nice when you're... feeling."

"Feeling?" he asked, and Tooth looked up to see his brows had furrowed with curiosity, his warm eyes piercing hers. His lips were thin and tight s he waited for a response, and she searched his face first. She could see every emotion he held in the lines on his face. In the creases at the sides of his eyes, in the scars he tried to hide with stubble. She could see the pain and anger there, written across his face. She could see the hurt in his eyes, the curiosity in the furrowing of his brow, the will to stay silent though his mind was bursting in the way he pursed his lips. The will to stay silent he expressed with every inward sigh and slumped shoulder. She knew he was holding his emotions in, and she hated that about him. He was suffocating himself.

"Even if some of your emotions are raw and painful, it's nice when you express them. I can see a truly human side to you, something pure and wonderful, even in the darkest moments. But like... like this," she said, gesturing to him. "Like this you're forcing yourself to be quiet. It's horrible, you're like a machine. You're not meant to be robotic, you're meant to be alive."

"I am alive," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Alive, yes. But not living. There's a stark difference," she said stiffly, shifting away from him.

"What would you like me to do?" he asked calmly, watching her every slight move, the way her arms shifted to support her weight, the way her body curved into the cushions of the couch, her hip jutting out to the side. How her head was cocked slightly, her eyes narrowing. He took in her every detail. He had to, sometimes he felt he was imagining her being there, imagining every conversation and every touch. He had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, that it wasn't his subconscious sending some beauty to him in his sleep to will him to keep going.

"Do something that makes you happy."

"I don't know what makes me happy any more," he admitted, and the words felt bitter on his tongue. "I mean I- I like flying, but it's not like I have wings, not like you. I can't just take off and zip around for a bit before coming back."

Tooth looked away, wondering about something, before looking back with her eyes a little narrower. But not in an angry or aggressive way, it was as if she were trying to understand.

"Why do you like flying?" she asked, and for a second Shaun imagined it, imagined being up in the air and not bound to four wheels to get around. His chest felt lighter, it was like something was breaking through the clouds.

"Freedom," he whispered, looking her dead in the eye, holding her gaze as her eyes widened again. "Imagine being stuck on Earth. You can't get anywhere quickly. You can't just take off whenever you'd like. Imagine that, but worse. Imagine being stuck in a chair, where you can't move – can't physically move on your own. I need ramps to get inside buildings, and I need help getting into other seats. I can't run around and have fun, I can't just go and play with my nephew and niece. I can't do anything. Flying would be... would be the ultimate freedom. I could do anything I needed without help, go places I can't dream of going now. Do things I couldn't imagine."

"Is... is that why you always loved stories about me? When you were younger, I mean."

"It's why I still love them. It's why I envy you. You literally have the power to do anything, go anywhere. The world is your oyster and all that crap. I'm limited."

"You're only limited by your own mind, Shaun. You have the power to do anything, be anything. You've created a prison for yourself in your own mind and restrictions on what you can do. I see potential in you, I see a bright light. I always have and I always will and I'll never stop telling you that."

Shaun took a second to mull her words over, thinking about the idea of making possibilities become actualities. Setting your mind to things and doing anything to achieve it. Then he sighed and shook his head. He'd never be able to walk again, he'd never be able to do the things normal people could. Tooth might speak about powers to achieve, but he didn't have them.

"I don't see anything in myself," he muttered, resting his head back on the couch. "I can't."

"Then..." Tooth stated, resting her head against his shoulder. "I'll just have to show you."

They stayed like that for the rest of the night. And what struck the man when he awoke in the morning was that the night had been one of uninterrupted sleep, soundless and easy and peaceful. It struck him that he'd managed that, but only when he had Tooth beside him. It was only a small thought, only fleeting, but it was enough to start the domino effect in his brain.

If he could get a good nights' sleep with Tooth beside him, what else could he manage with that woman?


End file.
